


Rose Among Thorns

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha John, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Body Horror, Body Image, Body Modification, Bondage, Breeding Bench, Caretaker Sam, Castration, Coercion, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Counseling, Creampie, Dark, Drugged Sex, Fever, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gender Role Reversal, Gender or Sex Swap, I fucking know it, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry Dean, Incest, Knotting, M/M, Marathon Sex, Medical Device, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Medical Patient Dean, Morbid, Multi, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Omega Conversion, Omega Dean, Omegatization, Other, Rimming, Sexual Identity, Sibling Incest, Sick Dean Winchester, Somnophilia, blame this one on my gramma's steps, jfc I'm gonna skip a tag and trigger someone, legal coercion, medically necessary sex, nothing about this is biologically accurate, or particularly consensual, pheremones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never really thought about it- Sam took after their mother, quiet and friendly, of *course* he'd be the one to present as an omega.<br/>Until he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rose Among Thorns

**Author's Note:**

> Check the tags. No. Really. This is not a happy story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam does not present as expected, Dean decides to become an omega in his place. John takes him to the omega clinic for the surgery to start the process.

Dean might have worried about it, if there had ever been any doubt in his mind.

Their dad was an alpha, about as alpha as you could get without straining something, if they were being honest about it. And their mom had been an omega. And ever since they were little, it was obvious Sam took after their mom.

Dean was headstrong and brave, quick to a fight, and usually the one to finish them, too. But Sam? Sam was timid, quiet. He could hold his own in a fight, because John and Dean had seen to it that he learned. Omega or not, he was gonna be a hunter and he was going to need to know how to protect himself.

But he wouldn’t start fights, not like Dean would. Wouldn’t go out looking for trouble, wouldn’t round off a mouthy statement with a cocky grin. Sam was stubborn, stubborn as any of them, but he wanted to fit in. Wanted to be liked. Wanted to get along with everyone.

So it never even occurred to Dean that his brother wouldn’t be the omega in the family. Every family had to have _one,_ it was the law. And in their family, it was going to be Sam. Quiet, good-natured little Sammy.

 

They knew Dean would be an alpha a full week before he presented, just by the smell of him. Dean couldn’t smell himself but his dad took to wrinkling his nose slightly when he came near, chafing at the scent of another alpha in such a close space. It would be better, they knew, after Sam changed; the light, autumn-leaf smell of an omega did wonders against the abrasive smell of conflicting alphas.

Sam at fourteen was cute, all freckles and floppy hair. By the time he was sixteen he was getting alarmingly large, taller by the day it seemed like. Dean teased him about the muscle he was putting on, telling him he was going to be the strongest omega in the world. Sam didn’t seem to concerned about it, more focused on his studies than what his body was doing.

 

By the time Sam was seventeen he was two inches taller than Dean. That should have been their first clue, and that was probably when John started making plans for his eldest. Dean, nineteen years old and an alpha for nine whole months now, just thought it was hilarious that his little omega brother was such a _mountain._

 

Then one morning Dean woke up to the smell of burnt rubber. He crunched his nose up, close to gagging, and looked around to make sure the hotel wasn’t on fire. It wasn’t, not that he could tell. Sam was still asleep, seemingly unphased by the godawful stink. John, on the other hand, was sitting at the hotel’s tiny table, a bottle of whiskey already open in front of him, and he was staring at Dean with determination.

“What the hell happened in here?” Dean asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You burning a tire or something?”

John shook his head.

“It’s Sam. He’s an alpha.”  

 

They went back and forth on it for three days, Sam insisting that there had to be _something_ they could do to circumvent the law, and John arguing that there wasn’t, and Dean mostly sitting there numb, thinking.

He’d presented more than a year ago, the damage was mostly done, but Sam… Sam was huge, and headstrong, already more of an alpha in three days than Dean had managed to become in a year. Dean stood in the bathroom, wiping the condensation off the mirror and staring at his reflection in the glass. The angry voices of his family faded into the background as he looked himself over. He was smaller than Sam, prettier, with full lips and wide green eyes. His body was softer, his muscles less defined, his nose and shoulders dusted with freckles. He’d hoped some of his more feminine qualities would go away after he presented. Now he just felt sick as he forced himself to be glad they hadn’t.  

 

Sam told him he didn’t have to do it. Dean told him not to be an idiot, that between the two of them, he was the obvious choice. Sam was strong now, he’d be stronger once he grew into his alpha genes. There was no point giving that up, just for Dean’s pride.

John, predictably, sided with Dean.

“We don’t even know if it’ll work,” Sam said finally, drawing out the last straw of his argument. “You might not even be eligible.”

 

And that’s how they ended up at the omega clinic in Canton, Dean’s stomach filled with equal parts determination and fear.

One omega in every family. That was the rule. So it’s not like he’s the only person to ever have to go through this. Probably not even the only person here for it today.

He glanced around the waiting room, filled with people mostly his age, teenagers, some with parents, some alone.

He was a full grown adult, of course, he could have come without his dad. Probably should have. But for some reason he’d wanted his father there as he went through this.

 _That’s why you’re the omega,_ he chastised himself. His face went red and he stared at the floor. Best not to speculate about anyone else.

 

The woman who called his name was an omega herself, pretty and sweet. Dean and his father both inhaled appreciatively as they followed her back to the examination room, and Dean realized with a start that before long he wouldn’t be attracted to her at all. Or maybe he would, and that would be even _worse._

“You’re here for an omegatization prep?” she asked, and her voice was high, like a bell. Dean hoped his voice wouldn’t get like that. She frowned. “You’re nineteen? And already presented?”

“My little brother,” he mumbled, and realization dawned on her face.

“Ah. Well, prior presentation as an alpha isn’t necessarily a disqualifier for omegatization. I’m just going to take a quick history and some vital signs and then you can see the doctor, okay?” She gave him a wide smile. Dean glanced at his dad.

“Yeah, okay.”

She had him stand on the scale and took his blood pressure and listened to various things in his chest and belly, making little marks on her clipboard as she went. And she asked questions- did he drink, did he smoke, was he sexually active, were there any other omegas in the family, had any other family members undergone omegatization, any family history of blood disorders, heart disease, diabetes.

Dean didn’t know the answers about his family history. His dad had to fill in. So there, there _was_ a legitimate reason for him to have come along.

After what seemed like forever, she clicked the pen closed and set the clipboard on the table.

“This all looks good! All that’s left is the physical examination and that’ll tell us all we need to know.”

She retrieved a towel from the cabinet by the door, methodically unfolding it and laying it over the examination table. Dean had been trying not to look at it. It was a professional gray, padded, with buckles for restraint straps (thankfully missing now) and, most embarrassingly, a pair of high metal stirrups. The stirrups had socks wrapped around them to keep them soft, and that didn’t help.

Every time Dean looked at it, he could see what he would look like lying on it, his legs spread wide and his ass held high, on display for the whole room.

And here she was, lying the towel over the top (for his comfort, _ha_ ) like he was ever going to look at that thing with anything other than terror.

“Go ahead and get undressed, lay down on the table, and the doctor will be in shortly.”

She left the room to give him some privacy and he glanced at his dad. John’s face was grim and determined, but when he caught Dean’s eye, he looked away.

“Dunno what you’re so damn embarrassed about. Once you’re an omega it won’t matter much anyway.”

“Well give me this last little bit of decency then,” Dean snapped, and then immediately regretted it. This wasn’t John’s fault.

He stripped his clothes off one layer at a time, folding them and leaving them on the chair by the door. Then, naked, he sat on the edge of the table. He wasn’t putting his feet in the stirrups until he absolutely needed to.

It seemed like forever until there was a knock on the door. John told them to come in. Dean seemed to have lost his voice.

It was incredibly strange, sitting there completely naked in front of his dad and Doctor Roberts as the two of them made introductions and small talk. After a moment, the doctor turned to Dean.

“So this is my patient?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean murmured. He couldn’t meet the man’s eyes.

“Well, I will say, I hope you’re a good candidate. With your features you’ll make a beautiful omega. Not like some of the alphas I get through here.”

“That’s why we’re having him changed, instead of his brother,” John explained, and Dean scowled at the floor. This was bad enough without his dad telling everyone he was the _pretty_ brother.

Doctor Roberts pulled a pair of white latex gloves over his hands, making small talk with John while he prepared his tools.

“Now, I assume you’re familiar with the process? What it entails?”

“I know the basics,” Dean grumbled. He was trying not to think about it.

“Good!” the doctor responded, not reacting to his tone. “Go ahead and lie back on the table, and put your hands up above your head if you don’t mind.”

Dean did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the chipped plaster squares of the drop ceiling. Cold rubber pressed against his chest as the doctor examined him. His nipples were pinched between impersonal fingers, making them harden almost immediately. The doctor continued to stroke them, pinching and twisting gently, stopping only when Dean let out a hiss.

“They’ll get a much worse beating when a pup gets to them,” the doctor laughed, expanding his palpitations to the areas around Dean’s nipples. “They’re not as large as I’d like, but the plumbing is all there. Sometimes it atrophies in presented alphas, so it’s important to check.”

Dean stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine holding his pup to his chest. He couldn’t.

“The nipples will probably get larger after the conversion, as well as darker. Some patients see an increase in breast size, but that’s usually only seen in females or males with a much higher body fat content than you have. Still, fair warning.”

Dean looked down over his own naked body, trying to memorize the _alpha_ of it. He wished the doctor would stop talking.  

“Moment of truth!” he announced instead, patting the socked stirrup. “Scoot forward and put your feet up here.”

Dean could see the blush spreading all the way down his naked chest as he scooted forward, letting his ass rest on the edge of the examination table. He glanced at his father, but John wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead he crossed to the head of the table and stood by Dean’s shoulder. Dean figured that was all the privacy that he was going to get, and hesitantly raised his feet into the stirrups.

He closed his eyes, not even wanting to see the ceiling. He tried to retreat, meditate, anything to take his mind away from the humiliation of having a stranger stare at him like this.

The doctor made an approving noise, and Dean heard a drawer opening.

“Have you ever been anally penetrated?” the doctor asked, and Dean has gasped out a shocked “no!” before he even stopped to think about the question. The doctor chuckled.

“No need to sound so shocked, kid. Plenty of alphas enjoy anal play, and once you’re an omega, well.”

He didn’t need to finish the statement. Dean knew damn well what an omega’s role was. He closed his eyes again, but he couldn’t shake the image of lying back and taking it, some big hairy alpha crawling on top of him and rutting into his ass.

He felt vaguely sick.

“This is going to be cold,” the doc said, interrupting his thoughts. A moment later Dean felt a cold slick digit circling the pucker of his ass. It took all his willpower not to jerk away as the finger pressed into him, cold and slimy.

“Hmm. You’re very tight. Even for an alpha. That might cause problems if we don’t address it during the omegatization.”

Dean groaned, not at all wanting to discuss this, particularly not with his dad in the room. After the omegatization he planned on dying a virgin, so the tightness of his omega channel was utterly inconsequential.

“You might feel some pressure, here,” the doctor continued, and Dean felt a second digit slipping in beside the first. Even with the lube, it was uncomfortable, and he squirmed against the intrusion.

“We’re not even halfway there yet, kid. I’m going to need to use the speculum for a full examination. It’s going to be a hell of a stretch, but I want to make sure absolutely all the parts are present and functional before I give the okay to continue. Are you ready?”

“Just do it,” Dean groaned, and within a few seconds the fingers withdrew. They were replaced by something cold, and hard, and slicked with the same goo as before. It pressed into him, deep, uncomfortably deep, and before he could adjust to it there was a clicking ratcheting sound and the thing _expanded._

Dean cried out, he couldn’t help it, and reached desperately for his dad. His fingers clenched tightly around the leather of his jacket sleeve and he focused on that, not the tears rising in his eyes or the pained noises coming from his throat as the ratcheting continued and the doc stretched him open further.

It burned and cramped, and Dean could feel his muscles trying helplessly to clench closed around the intrusion. The speculum was unrelenting, holding him open for the doctor’s inspection. Dean felt fingers inside him, deep in his body, probing and pressing into his most private areas.

John’s hand was around his, holding him tight as he tried to breathe through it. The doc made his observations out loud, seemingly unconcerned by Dean’s distress.

“Looks like you could have gone either way- all the omega parts are here. I’m actually a little surprised you presented alpha in the first place. You’ve got the makings for a wonderful omega channel here, all you need is a little push in the right direction.”

Dean let out a choked gasp when he remembered what that ‘little push’ actually entailed.

More prodding, more pressure.

“The cervix is here, which means that just around here, you should have-”

Dean’s eyes flew open as colors burst across his vision. The doctor chuckled and he realized that his cock had hardened halfway just from that gentle pressure.

“What was _that_?” he gasped, when the colors had dissipated.

“ _That_ is the last piece I needed to check before giving you the green light. It’s a gland that produces omega hormones and if you didn’t have one, there would be no point continuing. But yours is present and healthy and quite sensitive, by the feel of it. So, congratulations mister Winchester- you’re a perfect candidate for omegatization. I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to conceive and bear pups, once the process is complete.”

 _Other than me dying a virgin,_ Dean thought to himself. But he stayed quiet. The law said he had to be an omega- it didn’t say he had to act on it.

“-some painkillers, and we can get started,” the doc was saying, and Dean snapped out of his thoughts.

“What? _Now?_ ”

John frowned down at him.

“Of course, now. That’s why we’re here.”

“Isn’t it a surgery? Don’t they have to put me under? Don’t I have to not eat for a day or something?”

“We won’t need to use a general anesthetic,” the doc said quietly. He was filling a syringe from a small vial and Dean’s heart began to race.

“Dad- no, please, I can’t-”

“There’s no point putting it off, Dean,” his father told him sternly, and Dean forced himself to meet his father’s eyes. He knew his own were wide, filling with tears.

_That’s why you’re the omega. That’s why all this is happening, crybaby._

“The painkiller will probably make your thighs go numb, so I’m going to need to restrain you for this,” Doc Roberts was explaining, and Dean clenched his eyes shut and nodded. The doctor paged a nurse, and together the two of them strapped his thighs and feet securely into the stirrups. The immobilization was making him panic and he squirmed against the straps involuntarily. John glared at him.

“Don’t fidget, Dean. This will be over soon.”

The rustling of the drawer again.

“I’m going to take the speculum out now, Dean, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you empty. I’m going to send you home with this plug- it will help keep your omega channel open, and the plastic contains alpha hormones which will help propel the omegatization process. Do you understand?”

Dean stared at the plug in horror, thinking that it was too large to ever fit inside him. But then, it was only slightly larger than his own cock, so it would be just the right size for an omega channel, right?

He swallowed hard, then closed his eyes and nodded. The speculum withdrew and the nurse applied a thick layer of soothing cream before the plug was seated firmly into his ass. It bumped gently against the omega gland when he moved, and Dean realized it had a built-in ridge of bumps designed to do just that.

“I see you’ve discovered it’s other benefit,” the nurse chuckled, and he realized he was almost fully hard now. “Don’t worry, that will go down once we’ve given you the painkillers. Are you ready?”

He wasn’t, but he nodded anyway. The nurse sat between his obscenely spread thighs, and Dean groaned as he felt a needle sink into his perineum. She pushed the plunger and the bee-sting needle blossomed petals of hot fire, spreading quickly across his groin. She withdrew the needle and almost immediately pierced him a second time, slightly higher. His cock and balls began to tingle as they went numb, and Dean realized with a horrifying sinking feeling that the tingling was the last thing he’d ever feel there.

“No,” he murmured again, trying to pull against the straps, to get away, but they were held tight. His dad took his hand, letting him squeeze as tight as he needed.

“Can you feel this?” the doc asked, and when Dean looked down, he saw that the man was bouncing his limp cock between his fingers.

“No,” Dean rasped, and the doc nodded.

“Good.”

The nurse handed him a length of tape and he cut a length, then used it to tape Dean’s cock to his lower belly.

“You’re going to feel a bit of pressure, now,” the nurse informed him in her chipper voice, but Dean felt nothing. Everything between his belly button and his knees was completely dead to sensation, and that was probably for the best.

He closed his eyes, gripping his dad’s hand tight, and tried to focus on the doctor’s voice instead of the sounds of him working.

“So as you know, omegatization involves the removal of both testes. We’re going to take a good deal of the skin of the scrotum, as well, so the site should heal flat and smooth. Aside from the scar, you’ll look exactly like an omega whose testes atrophied naturally. We’ll give you a scar reduction cream that should help with the healing.”  
And then Dean did feel pressure, a deep heavy _yank_ that made him feel like he was going to puke. He realized he was letting out a low keening sound, both his hands wrapped around John’s, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.

“Just the stitches left, now,” the nurse happily informed him when he quieted, but Dean was already checking out. He didn’t want to be here, naked and splayed with his ass plugged full, listening to the nurse and his father talk about the likely presentation of his pups.

His _pups._

Jesus H. Christ.

“And there’s an alpha who can help him through the process?” the doc was saying, and his father nodded.

“Me or his brother. Maybe we’ll take turns, it depends on how often he needs it.”

“Probably at least twice a day, for the next couple weeks. Once he’s healed enough to take it, but that shouldn’t be too long.”

“And after the knotting?”

“I’ll give you a couple more plugs, make sure to plug him afterwards to keep the semen in. The whole point is to get alpha hormones into his channel, it’s a wasted effort if it all drains out.”

“And they’re, ah… all that big?”

His father was looking uncomfortably at the thick plug currently nestled between Dean’s cheeks. Dean blushed and tried to close his legs, but the numbed limbs were still strapped to the stirrups.

“That’s the minimum recommended size for an omega channel. You can go larger if you or the other alpha feels he needs it.”

“Well… we’ll see,” John said, and Dean collapsed back onto the table to stare at the ceiling.  

 

 

They let him stay in the room while feeling came back slowly into his legs. They unstrapped him almost as soon as the stitches were in, and left him to lie on the table with a big ungainly wad of dressing stuck-

Stuck between his legs.

 _Where my balls used to be,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully, and he forced the thought back down before he had the chance to start crying again. John was sitting in the chair by the door, flipping through some stupid magazine and basically waiting for the meds to wear off so they could go home.

The nurse had offered to help him get dressed but he insisted on doing it himself. She gave him a big, sympathetic smile and then put the pile of folded cotton on the table next to him. He could wear the shirt he’d dressed in this morning, but there was no way he was maneuvering back into the jeans- the clinic had supplied a pair of loose black cotton sleep pants, and he wiggled into them before the feeling had a chance to come fully back into his groin.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he grumbled, and John looked only too happy to oblige.

 

There wasn’t a charge, the whole thing (plug, pants, and all, Dean thought sourly) was paid for by the government- after the omega shortage they’d put a lot of money into encouraging folks to obey the new laws. The woman at the checkout gave them some information on getting Dean’s identification changed. John accepted it graciously, and Dean did his best not to roll his eyes; he hadn’t used his official ID since he was ten. She also gave them some pamphlets about support groups and therapeutic follow-up visits, in case Dean had any trouble adjusting to what she termed as ‘new expectations.’ Dean’s brain helpfully interpreted that as the civic duty to make pups for a smelly alpha from his dad’s generation, since the omega birthrate had plummeted right around then.

Maybe he’d end up a sugar baby, he thought, the prospect sick in his belly. Let some rich alpha breed him up good, in exchange for the funds it took to keep Sam and his dad on the road-

He shook his head, pushing the pamphlets back across the table. He was an omega, not some squalling little _bitch,_ he could still hunt, just as well as he’d been able to yesterday.

Well maybe not _just_ as well.

But once the stitches healed up.

 

For sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Originally posted in the underage section of the spnkink_meme page.](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/111609.html?thread=41360377#t41360377) Click at your own risk. I aged it up because I'm still, like, four months away from having underage be my kink. Give it time, give it time. 
> 
> Sam's closer in age to Dean because if I do another chapter, Sam is going to be giving Dean some medically necessary cock. John too, probably, maybe at the same time, idk. My muse is in the bathroom snorting copious quantities of coke so I'll let you know her plans when she gets back. 
> 
> I'm *pretty sure* that Cas isn't going to be in this fic. But readers of mine know well that he shows up when he damn well feels like it. 
> 
> There might also be some pointlessly gratuitous Dean-whumpage in later chapters up to and including noncon because Dean getting gang raped is my aesthetic.


	2. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's got drugs to keep him under for the worst of the omegatization. It takes a toll out of his body, but Sam's there to take care of him while he's out.

It was a dick move, heading out on a hunt _six whole hours_ after Dean got home, but John was determined and Sam wasn’t in the mood to fucking _fight_ him about it.

Some little part of him was convinced that their dad just didn’t want to be here for this, didn’t want to watch Dean go through this, didn’t want to see his proud alpha son turned into… _this._

John had been betting on Sam, he knew. John had his eldest, the hunter, the fighter, the _alpha,_ and then he had Sam. The baby, the bookworm. The omega.

Well, see how _that_ worked out for you, Sam thought to himself. But somehow he still couldn’t bring himself to feel smug about it. Not with Dean passed out in his boxers on the nylon hotel bedspread, shivering and feverish. Mostly, Sam just felt tired.

After John had left, Sam had trudged down the hallway and come back with a plastic bucket of ice. He’d dumped the motel washcloths into the bucket, then laid them out across Dean’s naked chest. Dean didn’t wake up.

According to the articles Sam had read, Dean would probably be unconscious for most of the next two to five days. The doc at the clinic would have given him some shots- huge doses of omega pheromones that would kickstart the omegatization process and trigger the changes in Dean’s body. He had some medications he was supposed to be taking, little orange pill bottles and a tube of cream, and Sam knew all about _that,_ too. It was all online, which is a damn good thing because John and Dean hadn’t asked any questions at the clinic.

Just like Sam _knew_ they wouldn’t.

John was ducking out and pretending like this whole thing wasn’t happening, fucking off on a hunt and letting Sam deal with it until it was all over- or at least as over as it was gonna get. It was kinda his MO, as far as his sons were concerned- Sam remembered having the flu at least twice as a kid, both times it had been Dean there with cough medicine and soup.

Sam glanced over at his brother and tried to imagine him caring for pups. The visual came a lot easier than he would have guessed.

Dean. An omega.

Huh.

Dean groaned, stretching and then wincing.

“You up?”

Dean only groaned in response. Sam checked the time- sure enough, the last round of painkillers should be wearing off right about now.

He cracked open the pill bottle, then went and drew a glass of water.

There were two pills, white for pain and pink for pheromones. Sam looked at them thoughtfully for a second. The pink pill was tiny, way smaller than he’d imagined when he’d read about them. For the effect they had, he’d have thought they’d be larger.

“Open up, you gotta take your meds.”

Dean groaned and threw a hand over his face.

“Come on. Sit up and take these and then… then you can go back to sleep.”

Dean struggled into a sitting position, wincing at each small movement.

“… hurts,” he managed finally, and Sam nodded.

“I know. Take these.”

Dean took the pills into his palm and barely glanced at them before tipping them back into his mouth. He drank the whole glass of water, too. Between the fever and the changes happening inside him, he’d be going through a lot of fluids. Sam made a note to check his water intake.

Dean looked around the room once.

“Where’s dad?”

“He caught a hunt, he’ll be back in a couple days.”

Dean’s gaze stayed where it was, pointed vaguely toward the other side of the room.

“’s probably just as well,” he said finally.

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“That mean you’re my alpha?”

Sam sighed.

“Yeah, for the time being, I’m your alpha.”

“Mmkay.”

Dean leaned back onto his elbows, lowering himself gingerly back onto the bed.

“There… there’s something else.”

“…mmm?”

The meds were hitting him hard, his eyes were already fluttering shut.

“There’s something I gotta do and you’re not gonna like it.”

Dean didn’t react and Sam let out half a laugh. He’d been half-hoping that Dean wouldn’t be awake for this.

The tube of cream was sitting innocently beside the pills, where John had dropped it as he packed. Sam wasn’t sure he’d even known what it was for.

Sam picked it up and crossed the room, standing above Dean’s prone body. He stood and pondered for a moment, trying to come up with a strategy. Dean was pretty out of it, but he was also a trained hunter- if he came to while this was happening, he might attack first and ask questions later. In his current drugged-out haze, Sam was pretty sure he’d win any fight his brother decided to start; he was more worried that Dean might get uncoordinated and hurt himself.

He left the cream on the bedside table and retrieved his duffel bag. There was a tie inside, a holdout from some disguise or another, and Sam tested it in his hands. It should hold.

He wrapped the silk band expertly around Dean’s wrists, securing them above his head. He made sure the tension was good, and that the weight of Dean’s arms wouldn’t cut off the circulation to his hands.

That done, he turned his attention to Dean’s waist.

He’d stripped his clothes off almost the minute he’d gotten inside, the fabric rough and confining on his overheated body. He’d be extremely sensitive to textures for the next few days, until the change was done.

He’d left his boxers on for dignity’s sake, for all the good that did the two of them.

Sam eased the underwear over his brother’s hips, being careful not to jostle him too much. It slid easily over his thighs and calves, leaving him naked.

His cock was soft where it rested against his thigh, looking huge without the heavy weight of his balls to frame it. His skin was damp with fever sweat, and his scent was a confusing mix of sick alpha and sick omega. It made Sam want to comfort him and flee the room, in more or less equal measures.

Gingerly, Sam lifted his knees, pushing his thighs apart. Dean whimpered slightly, but didn’t wake up.

The incision wasn’t as bad as Sam had feared. For some reason he’d been expecting a gory mess, like maybe Dean’s sack had been torn off by a monster that had just clawed at the soft flesh and _pulled,_ but it was nothing like that.

The loose skin of his scrotum had been trimmed back, the edges pulled together and stitched cleanly into a seam maybe two inches long. There was a little bit of dried blood along the incision, but other than that, it looked clean. The injections which spurred the omegatization accelerated the healing process, and Sam could see the edges of the seam already knitting themselves together.

Sam’s hands trailed up Dean’s thighs, resting under his knees and pushing them higher. It had the effect of turning his ass up, exposing the flared base of the plastic omega plug. Sam felt his own ass clenching in sympathy when he saw the size of the thing, and sympathy turned to something like pity as he worked it out of his brother’s body.

“Now the fun part,” he grumbled, picking up the tube of cream.

The cream was a mixture of painkiller and alpha pheromones, designed to aid in the conversion of Dean’s omega channel. Ideally, the pheromones should come directly from an alpha’s semen, or preferably _more_ than one alpha, but the cream should give Dean a little more time to heal before taking that step.

Sam cracked the cap open, letting a spurt of the thick white cream land on his fingertips. It tingled a bit- menthol, probably- and it had some fruity, flowery scent that Sam didn’t like at all.

Dean’s entrance was red and a little puffy- Sam wasn’t surprised, judging by the size of the plug. He rubbed the cream gently into the tender skin, sparing a sympathetic glance at his brother when he moaned.

“Just a little more,” he murmured, and slid two cream-slick fingers into Dean’s stretched hole. It would be another day or so before Dean began producing his own slick- another thing the cream was supposed to hasten along.

Sam worked his way around the inside of Dean’s hole, rubbing deep into the velvety skin inside him. At one point his fingers brushed against something solid and Dean whimpered, arching his hips up against Sam’s hands. Sam blushed red, trying not to notice Dean’s sudden hard on, or the way the omega in his scent was distinctly overpowering the alpha, now.

Dean’s scent had been damn near intolerable ever since Sam presented, something like a cross between a wet dog and a pissed-off snake, but now… now he wasn’t as bad. More like smoke from a campfire when the wood wasn’t quite dry.

“Nnn… Sam…”

“I’m almost done. I’ve just got to work this in a little more and then I’ll put the plug back and you can go to sleep.”  
“No… don’ need it…”

“Sorry, but you really do. You’ll thank me later.”

Dean tugged halfheartedly at the tie, but he was still too groggy and drugged to really make any progress against it.

Sam withdrew his fingers, picking up the plug and smearing the remains of the cream onto it’s thick length. He looked it over, realizing he’d never really thought before about what an omega channel actually looked like, on the inside. Looking at the plug, he could see the anatomy laid out in reverse, complete with a nubbed ridge designed to stimulate production of omega pheromones.

He made sure the ridge was facing upwards as he pressed the plug relentlessly back up into Dean’s body. He could tell the omega needed it badly- he’d clenched and tightened even in the few minutes the plug had been absent. Now his body tensed, and he whimpered slightly as the plug slid home. His hard cock bobbed as the ridge rubbed against the omega gland.

Sam made sure it was settled, then pulled a sheet over Dean’s body. It would be more comfortable for him than putting his boxers back on, particularly since he’d need the cream applied again in a few hours.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some nice aftercare for Dean. 
> 
> Here's what I've got planned for upcoming chapters: 
> 
> \- Sam helping take care of sick!Dean. 
> 
> \- Sam being Dean's first alpha. 
> 
> \- Sam's alpha spunk not being enough to push Dean through his first heat, John joins in. 
> 
> \- Dean still won't pull out of his heat, Sam takes him back to the omega clinic for some anonymous alpha pheremone donations, 'straight from the source' as they say. Gonna have some sensory deprivation here because the donors want to remain anonymous.


	3. More to See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too late to go back now. Everything hurts, and Dean distracts himself by contemplating his new life as an omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little care for sick!Dean. Poor thing. He's having a bad day.

Dean woke up burning hot, too hot to move. The effort of kicking the blankets off nearly killed him, and it barely even made a difference.

Something cold pressed against his forehead and his eyes flew open.

Sam.

He meant to ask what was happening, why they’d rented a motel room in the corona of the sun, but all he could manage was a thick moan.

“I know. Just a couple more days now. Want some water?”

Oh, god, did he. He wanted it so bad he muddled through the ordeal of sitting up to drink it, and didn’t even care that it tasted like tap water out of city pipes.

Everything hurt. His head was pounding and there were cramps rippling through his belly and he could feel his heart beating in his stitches-

Everything came flooding back and he groaned, falling back onto the pillows.

It hurt because he was changing, and he was never going to wake up from this, the pain in his body was his strength leaving him and leaving him a dainty little wisp of _bitch_ -

And now there were tears rising in his eyes which just went to show that they’d made the right decision.

Sam was laying the washcloth on his forehead again, icy cool and refreshing and he scowled, pushing it away. He wasn’t a baby, he didn’t need Sam _mommying_ him.

“G’way,” he grumbled.

“Sit back up, you need to take your pills.”

… painkillers.

Yeah, okay, that was worth sitting up for.

He struggled back into an upright position, wincing at the feeling of the plug inside him. It was rubbing against the omega gland, and he realized he was starting to get hard again.

He shifted, trying to get the sheets to cover the bulge, but the sheet was thin and didn’t do much to protect his dignity. Or what dignity he still had left.

He took the pills from Sam, knowing they’d knock him out and realizing he didn’t know what had been happening to him while he was out. He knew Sam had removed the plug a couple times, and had been applying cream to his stitches and his- his ass. But things got hazy.

He knocked the little capsules back dry, anxious for them to kick in. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Sam.

“Did you… have you…?”

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “You’re not healed enough. And I was thinking you’d want to be awake.”

Dean sighed, sinking back into the pillows. Sam had piled at least six of them under his upper body.

Did he want to be awake?

This was all going to culminate in a heat, he knew that. By the time his insides had finished rearranging he’d be begging for a knot from any alpha within shouting distance, and he had mixed feelings about that, but there was nothing to be done for it now. An unknotted omega couldn’t finish a heat, they’d go crazy or die. So it wasn’t like he was doing anything other than prolonging the inevitable but-

 _Did_ he want to be awake? The first time an alpha ( _Sam_ ) pushed into his body and filled him with a big thick knot-

He gazed down at the tenting sheet in horror. The plug shifted and he realized that he was _slick,_ that his stupid traitor body _liked_ this idea, and what’s more, Sam could tell. In the corner of his eye he saw his brother’s nostrils flaring as he scented him, noting the smell of omega arousal that was beginning to creep in.

“I gotta tell you, man, that is an incredibly confusing smell.”

Dean whined, throwing his arm over his face. He didn’t want to want an alpha knot, he wasn’t some needy little omega bitch, he wasn’t at all interested in getting on all fours and just _taking_ it. He’d do it to get through the conversion, and then he was getting one of those suppression implants and taking the plug out and swearing off sex forever.

That was the plan, it was an amazing plan, and he was sticking with it.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He could already feel the painkillers kicking in. “’m I almost healed?”

“Almost,” Sam said quietly. He had another cool washcloth, which he was using to wipe the fever-sweat off Dean’s face. Dean leaned into it a little. It felt nice.

His stomach was killing him.

“I’ve gotta put the cream on again, Dean,” Sam was telling him, but he wasn’t paying attention. All he could feel was the cool cloth on his face, and the aching pain between his hips and _god,_ he hated this.

Sam’s hands were cool on his skin, spreading his thighs and suddenly the meaning of the words sank in and Dean snapped his knees back together hard enough that Sam jumped.

“What? Did I hurt you?”

“Don’t, I don’t need it,” Dean groaned.

“You need the pheromones if you want this to work right.”

“Don’t care if it works right. Not gonna be some dumb omega all bred up with pups.”

“It needs to work well enough to pull you through your heat, or you’ll die.”

Dean stared at the ceiling. Imagine getting this far only to get killed by a damn _omega heat._ Life wasn’t fair.

“Fine. Just… can I have the cloth back? I’m burning up.”

“Sure.”

Dean expected Sam to just hand him the icy cloth, and he twitched gently when he felt it land on his chest. Sam worked it slowly down his body. Dean relaxed back onto the bed, enjoying it despite himself. Sam was pressing just hard enough that the muscles in his belly were paying attention instead of trying to cramp themselves to death. And the room no longer felt so much like the surface of the sun. Just Death Valley in August, is all.

“Eventually you’re gonna need to get up and take an actual shower,” Sam muttered, and Dean scowled.

“I’d need to let the painkillers wear off first.”

“You should be okay without them, soon.”

“No way. I’m staying on these for _life._ ”

“You are not, and you know it. Ready?”

Ready to spread his legs and let his little brother finger his asshole? No, not particularly.

“… fine.”

“This isn’t awesome for me either, jerk. Come on. Last time, I promise.”

Dean crossed his arms over his face, trying not to pay attention to the way the plug’s ridges bumped over his omega gland. He knew he was getting slick but Sam, to his eternal credit, didn’t say anything.

And then Sam cleared his throat and Dean was about to say something scathing when he realized the smell of slick was blending with the light scent of alpha arousal and oh god could this get worse.

“I uh… the cream’s supposed to stay refrigerated, so, this might be kinda cold?”

“Good, I’m dying,” Dean answered without uncovering his face.

Sam’s fingers were like ice, long and slender and oh, fuck, it should not feel this good to have someone massaging the inside of his body.

Because that’s what Sam was doing now- massaging, the pads of his fingers working the cream into Dean’s hot inner walls and Dean bit his lip almost hard enough to bleed because ‘ _more_ ’ was not a thing he was going to say in this situation, ever.

His cock was bobbing against his stomach, hard and proud and utterly unaware of his mortification. He could feel it pulling at the skin between his cock and his ass and it didn’t _hurt_ exactly, but it _felt._

“How bad is it?”

“You look like an omega. But nothing’s infected or anything, so it’s about as good as it could be. All things considered.”

Sam’s fingertips ghosted over the incision and Dean writhed. He didn’t know if he was trying to get closer or further away, only that it felt, a lot, and it made him need to move.

“Look at the bright side,” Sam was saying, and Dean rolled his eyes. “Your dick looks absolutely massive.”

“Not that it matters _now,_ ” Dean grumbled, and Sam had nothing to say to that. He finished with the cream, using the last of it to lube the plug back up- not that it needed it now, not with Dean’s hole slicking up the way it was.

Dean whimpered as it slid back into him, the stretch and burn seemingly just as bad as the first time he’d taken it. He felt impossibly full, the only difference is that now it was starting to feel _good._


	4. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that's left of the omegatization process is the omega heat looming on the horizon. Sam and Dean batten down the hatches and wait for the storm.

The fever broke right about the same time that the last stitches dissolved and the painkillers ran out. They both tried to be optimistic about the developments, but every step of progress was one step closer to the heat that they both knew was coming.

Dean took a shower, a long shower, washing the last of the fever crud off his skin and, Sam suspected, spending a long time looking at himself in the mirror.

He didn’t look different, not too much anyway. The stubble on his jaw was coming in a little lighter, a little finer, maybe. The lines of his face had softened a tiny bit, and Sam might be imagining it, but it looked like his waist had narrowed slightly. It made his hips look wider but that was just an illusion- medical science was amazing but it wasn’t good enough to make a grown man’s pelvis spontaneously widen.

To Sam, Dean barely looked different at all. He’d been a matured adult, after all, the bones and muscles of his body had already developed into the large, solid frame of an alpha.

Sam figured that was probably just as well- if his brother had turned _dainty_ he may well have killed himself.

Dean eventually came out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, and he must have known that Sam knew what he’d been up to.

“At least I’m not getting tits,” he quipped, and that was the end of it.

 

Dean wanted road food and for once, Sam didn’t begrudge him. They got pizza and beer and dried-out buffalo wings from a gas station and then they parked baby on a back road and ate on the hood. Like they’d done a million times.

Neither of them mentioned the coming heat.

Dean washed ibuprofen down with a local microbrew and Sam accepted the responsibility of driving home. Well, what passed for home for them, anyway.

They stayed out long enough to let housekeeping deal with the bedding, sitting on the hood of the car, shooting the shit.

Dean called John to tell him he’d pulled through, and John tried to sound enthusiastic through his obvious distraction.

He said the case was nearly wrapped up and he’d be home soon. He didn’t say that he was coming home because he was an alpha and Dean would need him.

Dean said he’d be glad to get back on the road again. He didn’t mention what stood between this moment and that one. He didn’t say that he’d likely be out of his mind with heat by the time John got back.

The sun went down and the bugs came out and Dean stayed, his back against the windshield, watching the fireflies. Sam waited, watching as Dean started to shiver, even through the summer heat and the leather jacket. He said nothing.

“We got a blanket or anything?” Dean asked eventually. Sam shook his head- Dean couldn’t see him, but he knew the answer anyway. There wasn’t so much as a dry French fry in that car, that Dean didn’t know about.

“Better head back then, I guess,” he said after a while. He tossed the keys to Sam, and they set off in silence.

 

The room was made up good as new, all the way down to the new bottles of shampoo in the bathroom. Dean spent way too long looking at them, trying to circle his way out of the inevitability of the next few days.

There was almost no alpha left in his scent at all now- Sam suspected that the lingering traces of wet dog smell were stuck to his clothes and hair, rather than coming new off his skin. Dean was an omega all-through, his scent like split cedar and wet leaves. It got stronger when Dean stripped down to his boxers, flooding Sam’s nose with _frightened omega_ and _heat._

“Take a fucking picture,” Dean snapped when he realized Sam was staring. Sam blinked and looked down. Dean sighed.

“Not your fault. I’d stare too, if I saw somebody this- this pretty.”

He tripped over the words and the joke fell flat.

To tell the truth he was scared out of his mind- not of Sam, he knew Sam wouldn’t hurt him. And not even of the sex, really, though he’d be lying if he said this was a place he’d ever expected he’d end up. He was scared because any minute now he was going to start losing his sanity and within a couple hours he was going to be completely gone. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, even if he knew he’d be back to himself in a day or two.

He hated how much Sam’s presence helped. He hated the way his brother’s burnt-tire smell had warped into a dark leather-and-whiskey scent that made him want to curl up in his arms and let Sam keep him safe.

He was doing this to keep _Sam_ safe and wasn’t that the whole god damned point?

“You want something to knock you out?” Sam asked, and Dean had to really, really think about it. But he could see on Sam’s face that he was just as nervous as Dean, and in the end, he couldn’t leave Sam to do this by himself.

So, fuck it. He was gonna be a needy little omega and he was gonna be awake for it.

He dragged the blanket off Sam’s bed and threw it over his own, before climbing under the whole stack and drawing them around him.

“Get over here. I’m freezing and you smell like you’re freaking out.”

Which was close to the truth, or close enough for science.

Sam climbed into bed beside him and Dean rolled over, adamantly not looking at him.

“How long you figure I got?”

“Why would I know?”

“Because you’re a protective egghead alpha, you probably know more than the fucking doctor, that’s why.”

Sam sighed.

“If you’re cold? A couple hours, probably. Before you start getting really… uncomfortable.”

Dean closed his eyes. A couple hours.

Probably.

“My stomach’s killing me.”

“Everything’s reconfiguring in there.”

“Yeah I _know_ that. Doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Lay on your back?”

Dean looked over his shoulder.

“Why?”

“I’ll rub it.”

Dean snorted.

“You’re gonna rub my belly like I’m a fucking pup?”

“Seemed to help before.”

“What, like when I was asleep?”

“Well… yeah.”

“That’s fucking weird, man.”

“You were out and in pain and I didn’t know what else to do.”

The scent of distressed alpha was rising in the room again; Sam was getting defensive. Dean sighed and rolled onto his back.

Sam’s hands were hot against his skin, working out the knotted muscles of his abdomen. It didn’t make everything better. In a couple hours _(probably_ ) Dean would still be ready to come onto Yellow Eyes himself if he smelled like an alpha. That hadn’t changed.

But it helped, Dean thought as he drifted off to sleep.

It helped a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Sam's POV again. 
> 
> By the way: I hereby relinquish ownership to this AU/Universe Rules/Process so if you're writing an A/B/O fic and you wanna make this process part of it; go for it. Just link me so I can read it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's heat starts and he can't remember what he was so worried about.

Sam realized he was dreaming right about the time he realized that the bouncy, bubbly omega riding his cock was Dean. Some curvy, voluptuous version of his brother was leaning down over him, arms on either side of his head, breasts bouncing just above his eyes, round dusky nipples just an inch from his lips-

He woke with a start, but the thick sweet scent of omega arousal got stronger, if anything. Sam wasn’t sure if he was hard from the dream, or if he’d been having the dream because he was hard, but in either case, he’d woken Dean.

It only took a second to conclude that Dean was in the thick of it now. He’d begrudgingly let Sam lie next to him when they’d gone to sleep; now, Dean was slotted up against him, their bodies close enough to melt together, and Dean was grinding back against his cock like he thought the damn thing had an expiration date.

“Dean?”

Dean only groaned in response, his hips jerking back into Sam’s. Reaching back, he cast around until he found Sam’s wrist and then _yanked,_ pulling Sam’s hand to his groin with a muffled plea.

Sam had been right about the timeline. It was a little past midnight, the only light in the room came from the neon hotel light, pink and blinking yellow through the worn curtains. It added a surreal aspect to the scene, the shadows across Dean’s face changing by the second. His eyes were clenched shut, his brow furrowed as he ground forward and then back, like he couldn’t tell whether he wanted Sam’s hand or his cock.

Sam hesitated, then wrapped his fingers around Dean’s cock and stroked, listening carefully to his brother’s breath catching. It didn’t escape him that he was supposed to be the one in Dean’s position, _he_ was supposed to have been the omega, and it was supposed to be _him_ lying there, being driven crazy out of his mind with lust.

His fingers brushed over the smooth healed skin behind Dean’s cock, wet with slick and smelling sweet as candy. His own balls rested full and heavy between his legs, there forever now, he realized.

Dean was supposed to be the one on top, the one pressing him to the bed and driving into him, filling him with a swollen alpha knot to drive him through his heat.

Dean would have done it for him.

 

The first time was easy. Easier than Sam had expected. He knew that omegas in heat were desperate, but in his mind, he hadn’t been able to reconcile his headstrong older brother with the idea of a begging omega. He’d expected Dean to be reluctant, or slow, or surly, expected him to hold out until the last second before giving in.

Dean wasn’t any of those things. He pushed his boxers down, kicking out of them and grinding his bare ass back against Sam’s cock.

He didn’t beg and Sam didn’t make him, just slid easily into the tight velvet heat of Dean’s body.

There weren’t fireworks. Sam wasn’t struck with the sudden desire to make a mating mark. He wasn’t terrified, or embarrassed, and he didn’t worry about what Dean would say when he came back to himself. It wasn’t magic. It was just right.

Sam’s hand splayed across Dean’s belly, holding him close as he rocked into him. Dean’s hand was around his cock, stroking in time with Sam’s thrusts.

A knot was rising at the base of Sam’s cock, and he belatedly realized that he’d never had that happen. Since he’d presented he’d been too focused on Dean to even jerk off. So his very first knot was going to tie him to his brother’s body.

That should be distressing, but he was too busy feeling it to care.

The base of his cock was swelling and more than anything it just felt like _pressure,_ the skin stretching tight over the newly expanded girth. It was catching on the rim of Dean’s ass and that was _amazing,_ but Dean’s whimpers warned him not to keep it up much longer. He was getting too big and running the risk of hurting him.

He buried the knot in Dean’s body, grinding into the omega gland and being rewarded with a fresh spurt of slick. He couldn’t pull back out again, his knot was too swollen, but he tried. Dean groaned and gasped and came, messy and careless over his fingers, and he _squeezed_ and Sam came inside him, coating his insides with sticky alpha seed.

Dean relaxed almost immediately, settling back against Sam’s chest and letting Sam hold him. They’d be tied together another twenty minutes, at least, no use fighting it. Dean’s scent had lost the distress and the anxiety, leaving behind nothing but a satiated sense of accomplishment. Sam smiled.    

 

 

 

The room? The room was a mess.

Dean literally could not care less.

He’d woken up during the night utterly confused as to what he’d been so worried about. It’s not like he didn’t _have_ an alpha. Sam was right there, strong and warm and willing to give him _just_ what he needed.

He’d fallen asleep with Sam’s knot still buried in his sated body and a smile on his face.

 

He woke up four hours later about as horny as he’d ever been in his life, and Sam was still kinda _there_ and Dean moved against him and eventually he woke up.

And Sam was being real good about it, too, not complaining when Dean woke him up and wanted his knot, twice, before the sun came up.

And then Sam got up and came back with breakfast burritos and coffee and they had breakfast and then fucked in the questionably stable motel chairs and then they took a shower and fucked in there, too.

Dean had no idea what he’d been so damn worried about. That he’d want to have sex constantly? He smirked at his own idiocy. He’d wanted sex constantly when he was thirteen, too, the only difference is that now he was _getting_ it. And it was amazing.

It actually surprised him a little that in the seven years since discovering masturbation, it had never even occurred to him to put something up his ass. It was ridiculous, that he’d been missing out this whole time.

He mentioned this to Sam, but Sam wasn’t buying it. He was content to leave his ass exit-only, thanks. Dean shrugged. His loss.

 

Honestly? The biggest problem with this whole situation was that Sam was wearing out. Dean couldn’t remember how much sex it was normal to have in a day, but he was pretty sure eight times is pushing the limit. He’d taken over the hard part, straddling Sam’s hips and riding his knot, but it was still taking a toll on his younger brother. He could tell.

He brought up the idea of finding someone else- there were a pair of alphas in the room next door, Dean was sure of it. He’d seen them getting out of their car. He mentioned to Sam that they might be willing to help out, and Sam got a kind of weird look on his face and said he didn’t think that was a good idea.

 

That was three days ago. Dean was kind of distantly aware that heats weren’t supposed to last three days. More pressingly, though, was the scent of alpha that absolutely _permeated_ this room. He didn’t understand how Sam couldn’t smell it. There were scents from at least two dozen different alphas in here, and the scent was getting stronger and it was driving Dean absolutely _crazy._

 

“There are at least fifty alphas in this building,” Dean told Sam on the fourth day. “You can’t even tell me that there isn’t _one_ that would help us out.”

Sam wasn’t letting him leave the room any more. Not since the second day, when he’d gone to get ice and ended up fucking the night guard in the elevator service room.

“That’s not the point, Dean. You’re going to catch something, or get hurt.”

Personally Dean was totally open to the idea of getting fucked ‘til it hurt, but he didn’t mention this to Sam. Sam would go to sleep soon and then?

Then he was going to sneak out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self-promotion:   
> Creation stands just started a [loyalty program](http://i.refs.cc/RS2ki1gz) and if you sign up using my referral link, you get 10% off your first purchase and I get fifty points. Cool huh? 
> 
> I'm trying to leverage my internet fame into a 'rusty people skills' t-shirt and yes I am aware of the irony. 
> 
> In other news: I don't think John is coming back. Sorry guys, I know I promised, but the muse has locked herself in the woodshed and is refusing to make it happen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes Dean back to the omega clinic. Roberts explains the process of forcing him through his heat. Spoiler: the main ingredient is semen.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“I want you to come _back!_ ” Sam hissed. He was making the call from the front seat of the impala, keeping an eye on the motel door to make sure Dean wasn’t making a mad break for sexual freedom, _again._ “I can’t watch him all the time and Dad, he’s not pulling out of it.”

“How long has it been?”

“This is the fifth day. And he’s just getting worse.”

“And you’re knotting him regular?”

“ _Yes!_ ” His voice was rising. “I’m gonna start getting fucking anemic here, but it’s not working. He needs more than me. You’ve gotta come back.”

“People are dying here, Sam. I can’t just leave.”

“ _Dean’s_ gonna die if he can’t pull out of this fucking heat! You did this to him, get back here and fix it!”

“You giving me an order, boy?”

There was an edge of warning in John’s voice and Sam sighed.

“No sir.”

“Good. Take your brother back to the clinic. They can help him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You think Dean’s the first one to go through this?”

Sam sighed.

 

 

 

Doctor Roberts had never been so thrilled to see a patient back in his waiting room.

Dean’s omegatization was about a week past, which could only mean one thing.

He wasn’t pulling out of his heat.

He looked it, too, all pink cheeks and long glances and flirty grins. The boy knew how to draw them in, that’s for sure.

He tried not to grin as he called Dean’s name.

 

Dean’s brother had brought him in, and one look at _that_ guy and Roberts understood why they’d picked the elder for omegatization. Dean’s body was softening; being an omega suited him. His brother was all hard lines and massive features and there was something sharp in his eyes that made Roberts just a touch uncomfortable.

Roberts was talking to Sam, explaining how the consent forms worked, and Dean wasn’t listening, instead focusing on rubbing his calf against the doctor under the table.

“He can’t consent, not during a heat, so you’ll need to sign these for him.”

“And you guys just have a room for this in the back?”

“Several of them, yes. You’re welcome to see them beforehand, if you’d like.”

Sam’s eyes skimmed over the paperwork, then widened.

“You have to _what?_ ”

“I’m sorry- can I speak to you privately?”

“We can’t leave him,” Sam said, angling his head toward Dean. “He’s not acting himself, he’ll wander off.”

“I can have an orderly watch him,” Roberts said, paging the main desk. Sam reluctantly agreed, watching him leave with the beta woman who knocked a moment later.

“Your brother is taking to this very well,” Roberts said when they were alone. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll be open to this suggestion. Many omegas balk or fight, particularly as their heat comes to a close. For the safety and confidentiality of our donors, he’ll have to be restrained. We can also drug him, at your discretion. Studies have shown that omegas who complete their first heat in a calm, docile state adjust faster and have fewer complications.”

“He’s not like that, he’s not gonna panic, he’s not some…” Sam struggled to find the words.

“I understand. Dean was a developed alpha, he probably has a very rugged constitution. But you must understand that this is a very… delicate situation. The alphas who act as donors are screened very carefully, but they do insist on anonymity. Many of them have families. You understand.”

“So does Dean sign a waiver, or…?”

Roberts shook his head.

“We’ve found that omegas take most easily to the donations when they’re thoroughly restrained, including what some may consider an ‘extreme’ amount of sensory deprivation.” He ticked items off on his fingers. “We have hoods that restrict aural and visual input, as well as keeping the omega mute for the duration. The more thoroughly immobilized they are, the easier it is for them to accept what’s happening to them. Those previously inclined to fight stop struggling almost immediately.”

Sam was turning a little pale. Roberts offered him a rollo from a small crystal bowl on the desk. Sam shook it off.

“So what you’re saying is, if I sign this, you’re going to tie my brother down and have an anonymous alpha fuck him?”

Roberts winced.

“Please, Mister Winchester, there’s no need for language. You have to understand, this is something your brother _needs._ Without it, he could die. I’m aware there is a good deal of stigma against omegas who are seen as promiscuous, but the fact of the matter is, not every omega has a family large enough to have the alphas they need. There is no shame in the services we offer here. After the heat passes your brother may have conflicted feelings about what happened to him, but he will be alive to have those feelings. And that is what’s important.” He cleared his throat. “But to answer your question… not an anonymous alpha, no. Heats shouldn’t last more than 48 hours, after which we suggest working with at least three donors.”

“ _Three?_ ” Sam hissed. Roberts held up his hand.

“Dean is on day five. We don’t have time to start with preliminary measures. More likely it will take closer to a dozen.”

Sam sat back in his seat, staring blankly at the clipboard of forms that Roberts had passed him.

“A dozen,” he echoed hollowly.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. Like I said, our donors are very thoroughly vetted. They will enter the room one at a time and the donation will take place utterly privately. Between donors, an orderly will do an examination to make sure that he’s producing adequate slick to keep from being hurt by the process. They can’t clean him out- it would defeat the purpose, you understand- but we’ll make sure he’s kept as comfortable as possible.”

“And after this… he’ll be done turning? He’ll never have to do it again?”

“A single alpha should be sufficient to bring him through his subsequent heats, yes.”

Sam looked at the clipboard again.

“What do you drug him with?”

“Depending on your preference we can give him a minor relaxant or we can put him completely under, if you think that would be better. There are risks-”

“And it helps?” Sam interrupted. Roberts nodded.

“Very much so.”

Sam leaned forward, picking up a pen from the desk.

“Minor. Just enough that he won’t panic when he starts coming out of it.”

Roberts nodded.

 

 

Dean swallowed his pills without fighting, preferring to focus on flirting with the nurse helping to prep him. It only took about five minutes for the medication to kick in, a faraway look coming into his green eyes. During that time Roberts took his temperature (two locations) and his blood pressure and asked him to strip for a preliminary examination of his cock and ass.

It was as Roberts expected- a little chafed, a little puffy, but Sam had been careful to keep him plugged and not pull his knot out too soon. The incision was almost completely healed, just a little pink.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and Dean gave him a rakish grin.

“Born ready, doc.”

 

Like most omegas, Dean hesitated when he saw the hood. There were orderlies in the hall that could hold him down if needed, but it turned out, he didn’t need it.

The nurse slipped the wireless buds into his ears, leaving them off for now. He opened his mouth to protest and Roberts caught his jaw, sliding the perforated gag between his lips. He’d be able to breathe through it, but speaking would be impossible.

“Hold that there,” Roberts ordered, and Dean’s eyes widened, but he complied. Most of them did- being polite wasn’t beneficial to them at this stage.

“I’m going to put this over your head. It’s going to hold the earplugs and the gag in place, and it’s also going to obstruct your vision. You might panic at first and if you do, I want you to make a hand gesture, and I’ll help you get through it.” Roberts demonstrated the gesture. “Do you understand?”

Dean nodded, and Roberts pulled the hood over his head, lacing it quickly into place. Dean’s breath quickened slightly, his fingers tightening on the edge of the exam table. But he didn’t panic and he didn’t signal for help.

 

Roberts liked putting the hood on before taking the patient to the donation room- omegas tended to get nervous when they saw the breeding bench. Even in the middle of their heats, when they were most desperate for it, they tended to balk at the image it presented.

Two long, thin padded platforms supported the shins, keeping them comfortable but widely spread. The bench itself was tilted downward, keeping the head below the hips and forcing the restrained omega to remain in a presenting position.

Roberts couldn’t wait to see Dean on it.

He led Dean over to the bench, one hand on his hip, one on his shoulder, and helped him get situated.

The nurse helped him with the buckles, fastening Dean to the bench at the ankles, the knees, and the waist. They pulled his wrists forward, forcing him to lie against the table, his arms pulled taut downwards. It would keep him from falling if he started to struggle.

Roberts looked him over, checking the buckles.

He was beautiful, his skin pale and freckled and dusted with tawny hair. The scent of him was unbearably sweet, slick already glistening on his well-fucked hole.

Sam had been doing a good job.

“I can take it from here,” he told the nurse, and she smiled slightly and left him to it.

He turned the ear buds on, setting them to play white noise at low volume.

 

His first two fingers slid easily into Dean’s body, and he moaned behind the gag.

Unlike alphas, omegas didn’t need to be stretched before they were entered, but sometimes converted alphas needed a little extra. Fortunately, it appeared that Dean had been plugged consistently and as a result, his omega channel was wide and accommodating.

Roberts spread some artificial slick onto his fingers, spreading it liberally over Dean’s entrance. It had a slight numbing agent in it; the poor omega would be grateful for that by the end of the day.

Dean was pulling against the straps, not fighting exactly, more like testing their strength. That was okay. They’d held omegas stronger than him, and he would be far more comfortable once he reassured himself that he was completely helpless.

Roberts let his hands rest lightly on Dean’s back, rubbing gently up and down his spine. Dean relaxed into the touch, letting the drugs and the restraints settle him. Within a few minutes he was canting his hips upwards and pushing back, toward Roberts’s hardening cock.

 

Dean’s body was velvet fire as Roberts slid inside, pushing balls-deep into Dean’s body and then freezing with a shudder. Dean wasn’t a virgin but he was _close,_ his tight hole clenching around Roberts’s dick in response to the unfamiliar intrusion.

“You need it so badly, don’t you?” Roberts crooned, not expecting a response. Dean couldn’t hear him, didn’t even know it _was_ him, and that was alright.

He fucked steadily into Dean, loving the sounds that the gagged omega made when he bottomed out. Roberts knew this was something Dean needed, it was all just part of the care for his patients, but he had to admit that he loved seeing the powerful omega bound and helpless, squirming on his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Cas is making an appearance either, guys. I can't swing it- somebody else write Cas in. Go for it. 
> 
> Next chapter: Dean breaks through his heat, suddenly remembers that he doesn't like stuff in his butt. Too bad he's got about five alphas left in his treatment.  
> Shit gets rapey. 
> 
> [Lookit my tumblr selfie.](http://hazeldomain.tumblr.com/post/146466889946/guys-i-was-in-a-parade-today) All the cool kids are doing it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes, just, *all* the knots.

At first it was great.

Not that Sam hadn’t been great; Sam had been _great._

Sam had been so great Dean wasn’t sure why they’d waited so long to try it. Dean thought maybe he was a total idiot for spending his whole adolescence furiously beating off in the shower when Sam was right _there_. Probably doing the same thing, come to think of it.

Sam had been great and when Sam had started getting worn out there’d been the night guard and the desk clerk and the guys in 22B and man, _they’d_ been great.

And now he was back at the omega clinic and he wasn’t quite sure about the blindfold (not to mention the gag) but he’d happily put up with it as long as the guy behind him kept doing that thing he was doing.

Dean braced against the straps, pushing backward into the alpha’s thrusting cock. He was wet and messy and loose and desperate and oh man he _did not care_. The alpha’s blunt cockhead was smearing come over his insides like a balm, and little by little the _need_ was dissipating. The _need_ that had been driving nearly every conscious thought since the heat had started, had driven him to straddle Sam’s hips and ride him until he was utterly spent and shooting dry- was starting to fade.

And with it came the nagging feeling that maybe something wasn’t quite right.

Because the guy behind him was still fucking desperately into him, but it didn’t feel quite as good as it had a second ago. And it began to dawn on Dean that he had no idea who was still in the room- was the doc there? Was _Sam_ there?

His face burned at the thought of his brother, standing by and watching him get fucked. He had the idea that it might not have bothered him so much a couple hours ago, but now it was making him feel a little weird, like maybe that wasn’t meant to be a part of their relationship.

The alternative might be worse, though, because if Sam wasn’t there, and the doc wasn’t there, it meant he was _alone_ in this room with this stranger and that might also be a problem.

He pulled at the straps again, this time in earnest, because for all he knew he was getting pounded (and oh god _was he_ ) by a shifter or something and there’d be nothing he could do about it.

The thought was making it difficult to focus on the feel of the alpha inside him, which might be okay because it wasn’t as great as it had been a minute ago. At first it had felt amazing, but now it was starting to feel uncomfortable. Dean was starting to become aware of the dragging friction against his entrance, the bruising-tight grip of the alpha’s fingers on his hips.

And then the alpha leaned forward, fucking him for real, and Dean felt the scrape of coarse hair across his back, stubble on the nape of his neck, and he began to pull against the straps for real.

The alpha came inside him with a shout, pulling out just far enough that his knot didn’t tie them together and for that Dean was grateful because he wanted this alpha to get away from him, sooner rather than later.

The alpha stayed inside him for a minute, rocking his knot gently against Dean’s stretched hole, and Dean shook his head and tried to pull away but he was too tightly restrained.

The alpha eventually pulled out and Dean was left waiting. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t even _ask._ He mumbled into the gag, unable to even hear his own muffled words.

The nurse. That was right. After the alphas came the nurse. He just had to signal her, and she’d unstrap him and he could go.

And sure enough, almost as soon as he remembered he felt small hands on him. She was wearing gloves, the latex soft and powdery against his skin. He pulled away from the touch, trying to gesture to her, trying to get some message across, but she only patted him gently and went on with her work.

First came the damp cloth, warm and rough, cleaning the come from where it had dribbled over his soft cock and thighs. His face burned again as he imagined the picture he must present- hips held high to keep the majority of the come inside him, but still so full and sloppy that the fluid was dripping over the smooth skin where his balls used to be.

He flexed, trying to tighten his hole, hoping to anything that he wasn’t as wide and gaping as he felt.

The nurse responded by rubbing a gloved finger around the swollen, puckered skin. Her fingers were slick with a lotion that tingled when it touched him, and she coated his hole thoroughly, fingers penetrating him to rub it into the inside as well. He moaned and writhed, trying to pull away but held fast by the straps.

She finished with the lotion and he was left alone again. With his other senses blocked, all he has left was the scent of the room, half a dozen rutting alphas and the smell of his own slick.

He inhaled again, trying to find his own scent amongst the alphas.

It wasn’t there.

He was an omega, a full omega, he realized as a pair of hands landed lightly on his upturned ass. An omega on a breeding bench, waiting to take it from anyone who wandered past.

His twisted his hands against the wrist straps, trying to reach the buckles (they had been buckles, right? His mind was fuzzy, he couldn’t remember) and finding no success.

The hands pushed his cheeks apart, thumbs spreading his hole, and Dean felt warm breath ghosting across the skin there.

 _‘He can’t be-’_ he had time to think, and then the alpha’s mouth was on him, hot and wet, and he groaned. Tears rose in his eyes as he struggled against the alpha’s grip, trying to escape the invasion as the alpha licked into him.

He hoped the two of them were alone, even if this alpha was a vampire, Dean thought he’d rather be drunk dry, rather than have his brother see him like this.

The alpha was talking. Dean couldn’t hear him, but he could feel his lips moving against his skin. He could feel the vibrations in his mouth and tongue.

He could imagine what the alpha was saying; telling Dean how well he was about to get fucked, promising to breed him good and fill him up with anonymous little pups-

Dean’s breath caught and he realized he was crying now, crying like the little omega bitch he’d become.

The alpha’s hand closed around his soft cock, stroking him to hardness, and Dean pulled back because he didn’t want to like this. He didn’t want to get off, strapped down to a breeding bench with some stranger’s tongue up his ass.

He bit down on the gag, trying to think of something awful, something that would kill his growing erection, but he was having a hard time imagining something worse than this. It was stupid- he’d been mauled by half a dozen creatures this year alone, he’d endured _so_ much worse. And yet for some reason the only thing he could think of was Sammy, unlacing the hood and seeing his face red and tear-stained and knowing that he’d taken a dozen knots and _cried_ through it.

The alpha was still murmuring to him, lips soft against Dean’s ass, sucking and nibbling at his hole while he stroked Dean’s cock. And eventually, Dean came.

The alpha celebrated by slamming his knot full into Dean’s ass, squeezing his hips when Dean cried out. The blindfold was getting wet, and he was having trouble controlling his breathing.

He wondered if the nurse would get rid of his come when she came in to clean him up.

 

They went on forever. Dean was sure of it. There was a never ending supply of alphas waiting to take his sore hole. He imagined the room was full of them, standing by, watching as he was rutted by man after man, taking their knots like the good little omega he was.

He was distantly thankful that none of the others seemed to care about getting him off. Mostly he was just tired, tired and sore, content to relax against the table and let it hold him up. Let it keep him presenting and ready.

He’d stopped trying to signal the nurse. She came after every alpha, with the warm damp cloth and her clever little cream-slick fingers. It was numbing him, keeping him from feeling the full brunt of the knots fucking his hole raw.

Eventually, someone came and untied him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody. 
> 
> Cas was not supposed to be in the last chapter. 
> 
> So originally I wrote the last chapter with Castiel being the doctor, and then the more I thought about it, I realized that him being the first donor was like twenty five kinds of terribly unethical (conflict of interest much?) and it was just so terrible I couldn't see Cas doing it and so I changed the doc back to Roberts. Who I could totally see doing exactly that. 
> 
> Except I apparently missed a spot and Cas ended up in the story anyway. :P I've fixed it now. 
> 
> Next chapter: Dean gets some tender loving aftercare from a nice beta nurse.


	8. The Afterparty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a little TLC while he tries to process what's happened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: CASTIEL

This new person was a beta, Dean realized, and that gave him a little hope. His mind was stull fuzzy and muddled, but he knew the nurse was an omega and the others- the others were all alphas.

So this was a new person and that was good. Because maybe that meant it was over.

They started with the washcloth, the hot rough fabric cleaning the come and slick from Dean’s body. They were more thorough than the nurse had been, and that gave Dean hope as well.

The hands vanished from his ass and he felt the straps around his left calf loosening. He let out what he could only describe as a sob of relief and he was grateful for the gag preventing the beta from hearing.

The beta made their way around Dean’s body, removing strap after strap until there was nothing left but the hood. Dean reached up immediately, fingers scrabbling against the laces.

The white noise from the earbuds shut off, and Dean realized that the beta was speaking.

“-just make it worse. Let me,” the beta was saying, and with a tremendous exertion of self-control, Dean dropped his hands to his sides.

Deft fingers worked the laces at the back of his head, loosening the hood inch by inch until it could be pulled off.

“…. _blue,_ ” Dean thought dumbly. The beta smiled at him.

“Hello, Dean,” he said. “My name is Castiel.”    

 

The room was bright, and spartan, and painted one of those dulled pastel colors you could probably only buy if you worked for the government. The breeding bench sat in the middle of the scuffed linoleum, looking innocent and unobtrusive. Dean felt sick and looked away.

Thankfully there weren’t any mirrors. The beta helped him into a sitting position and then handed him a fresh washcloth, for his face. Dean scrubbed roughly, trying to clean the tears and snot and icky swollen redness off his skin for good.

“Your brother’s out in the waiting room,” the beta said, and Dean nodded and tried to stand up. He didn’t quite make it, his thighs suddenly refusing to take his weight. He landed back on the bench with a surprised noise. The beta caught his arm. “The medication hasn’t worn off yet. You don’t have to go out there until you’re ready. You’ve been through a lot.”

“No more’n anybody else,” Dean mumbled. Everything seemed weirdly far away. The room smelled odd. He’d never really paid attention to his own scent- it tended to fade into the background, so he hadn’t paid attention unless he’d forgotten deodorant or otherwise smelled particularly rank- but it was definitely gone now. The room smelled like beta and omega.

It put him on edge.

“I’m good,” he told the beta. “Gimme my pants, I’ll go.”

Castiel nodded.

“Your clothes are in a locker just outside the door there. We also have washrooms, if you’d rather get cleaned up, first.”

Dean considered it. His face was still red and puffy and his legs were wobbling and he couldn’t really seem to focus. So maybe Sam could wait a little while longer.

 

Castiel wrapped him in a blanket and helped him to a wheelchair (a fucking _wheelchair,_ for christ’s sake) and explained that the weakness and grogginess was a side effect of a medication he’d been given, and that it would all fade and go away soon. Castiel explained that the drugs were helping to numb him for the moment, and they would prevent a large amount of the omegatization procedure from being committed to long term memory.

“Give it a couple days and this will all seem like a dream,” Castiel explained. Dean thought back to the feeling of the alpha’s mouth on his ass, jerking him off as they tongued his hole, and personally doubted it.

He wondered how Castiel expected him to stand up in the shower, but it turned out he needn’t have worried. A minute’s journey brought them to a hallway of identical white doors, and when Castiel pushed him through one, he found himself in a white-tiled bathroom, complete with a tub.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a bath, an actual bath in actual hot water without Sam or John banging on the door wanting to know what the hell was taking so long in there.

Castiel began running the water, showing him where the temperature control knobs were. Dean made a valiant effort to get out of the chair himself, but ultimately needed Cas’s arm to steady himself.

“Sorry,” he muttered when he’d settled into the warm water. Castiel shook his head.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You’re drugged. No shame in asking for help when you need it.” He glanced away. “I understand that you’d probably like privacy right now, but if I leave you alone you could pass out and drown.”

Dean laughed.

“Nothing everybody hasn’t seen already,” he said, and it was supposed to be a joke but there was something in his voice that didn’t suggest humor.

Castiel handed him a cloth and then turned his eyes away, giving him that modicum of privacy, at least. He ran the rough material up his calves and thighs, pressing like he could rub away the _feel_ of all of them, instead of just the fluids themselves.

“Do you know… how many…?” he asked hesitantly.

“Twelve,” Castiel said evenly.

“Twelve,” Dean echoed. “They thought I needed twelve?”

“Once you’re signed over to us for omegatization we’re responsible for your well-being,” Castiel explained. “The higher-ups feel that overshooting the target is better than undershooting.”

“Oh,” Dean said quietly. That made sense, he supposed.

Twelve.

Plus Sam and- and the others.

It wasn’t that many, really, he’d been with omegas more than twelve times. It’s not like he’d lost some virginal purity, it’s just…

_Twelve._

He tried to think back, to count the omegas he’d been with in his life, and with a start he realized he couldn’t remember. There was just a string of nameless bodies.

He let the washcloth float in the water, and hesitantly reached between his legs. Other than jerking off he hadn’t really done much down here since they’d cut- since he started becoming an omega.

It felt strange, not having balls. The skin where they’d been was velvet smooth, with just a scar running down the center to indicate that they’d ever been there at all. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the omegas he’d seen in centerfolds. Their perineums had been smooth and silky; more than once he’d wondered what it would be like to kiss the slick off that skin.

He’d never imagined that he would look like that one day.

He tried to picture it now, pulling some pretty little omega into his arms and kissing them soft-

And _then_ what? It’s not like he could knock them up.

His stomach tightened and he searched through his fantasies, looking for something he still wanted. He’d always been on top, covering, kissing, holding, spreading, penetrating, _taking_ an omega.

With a dawning horror he realized that none of it worked any more, not unless he wanted to play the part of some butch broken omega playing alpha, faking it, his partners looking at the scar between his legs with sympathy, _understanding,_ letting him _pretend_ -

“I’m gonna be sick,” he groaned, and Castiel silently fetched a towel for him.

He didn’t puke, but the feeling didn’t go away.

“Is it like this every time?” he asked hoarsely.

“Every heat?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel didn’t ask for clarification. Dean wasn’t concerned about the stitches or the come or the drowsiness from the pills. He was talking about the disgust. The knowledge that the heat had taken over his mind and sent him to his knees, presenting and begging for any alpha who would take him-

Dean had memories of sex he’d asked for and never wanted.

“Heats are known to lower inhibitions significantly,” Castiel said quietly. “Unless you go on suppressants, there is a good chance you will continue to solicit alphas during your heats.”

Dean stared at the ceiling. He was crying again, and fuck if that wasn’t going to get old.

So that’s what he was now. A needy little slut who needed pills to keep from begging for an alpha knot.

“How soon can I get on suppressants?”

“Now that your body has finished changing, you can get a prescription immediately.”

“I want them. Now.”

“As soon as we’re done here-” Castiel started, but Dean cut him off.

“ _Now,_ ” he insisted, pulling himself out of the hot water. His body felt steadier and his mind was clearer. The sleepy confusion was being overtaken by a desperate clarity. “Look, I’m getting out, I won’t drown, but I want them _now._ ”

Castiel took his elbow, supporting him until he was seated on the edge of the tub.

“Your heat won’t come for another three months, Dean,” he said calmly. “You can wait another few hours to take the pills.”

“No!” Dean shouted, and he was a little surprised at how loud his voice was. “I don’t want this, I don’t want any of this, I want the pills, I want this over with, I want to feel like _me_ again, I want, I want, I want-” and he couldn’t finish the sentence because his breath was coming in big ragged sobs as he buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel let him do it, wrapping an arm around his bare shoulders and holding him steady as he cried.

“Please, please just get them,” Dean managed between gasps. Castiel hesitated.

“I can’t leave you alone, Dean.”

Understanding settled on him like a weight.

“You’re worried I’ll hurt myself.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Because it doesn’t go away, does it. There’s no fixing this.”

“You’re still you, Dean,” Castiel said, but Dean pulled away, dropping back into the water with a splash. Hot water soaked into Castiel’s scrubs and Dean eyed the darkened fabric with an angry satisfaction.

He thought back to the omegas he’d been with in his life, wondering if they’d been in the middle of a heat, wondered if they remembered him the way he remembered-

“They don’t know who I am, do they?”

Castiel shook his head.

“The hood keeps you both anonymous. It’s possible you could recognize each other by scent, but the residual alpha in you should prevent that.”

“So I’m gonna be walking around the rest of my life, looking at alphas and wondering if they’ve fucked me.”

Castiel sighed.

“Dean, as much as our society likes to demonize it, heats are a normal part of an omega’s life. There are a lot of stereotypes and prejudices that you’re having to fight all at once, here, and that’s unfortunate, but you need to realize that it will pass. Within a few hours you’ll start losing the finer details of what happened here today. The feelings you’re experiencing now won’t last. By your next heat you’ll have had time to adjust.”

“You mean I’ll get used to being an omega and it won’t bother me that a dozen alphas ran a train on my ass,” Dean snapped. “Because that’s my new _normal_ now.”

Castiel made a helpless gesture.

“I’ll just get used to letting my dad and my brother have goes at me, and eventually I’ll meet some nice alpha and have pups and that’s what I am now.”

He meant the words to be hyperbolic and crude but as soon as they were out he realized they were true.

He was going to have to go out into the waiting room and meet Sam’s eyes, and Sam would have to make small talk and pussyfoot around the fact that he’d been out there with a Reader’s Digest for the last few hours while a string of alphas rutted Dean back to sanity. And then they were going to have to go back to a motel room and pretend like they hadn’t fucked on every flat surface in the place.

And then _dad_ was going to come back-

Dean’s heart sank.

Had Sam told him? About what it was going to take to bring the heat to an end? Did John _know?_

He wasn’t sure what was worse.

And that was the short term. Long term…

He’d never really thought about settling down, but he’d always assumed that if he did, it would be with a nice beta girl, maybe an omega if he was lucky, but…

He imagined himself curled up in some alpha’s bed, pup in his belly, some broad hairy chest pressed to his back-

And every heat, he’d _want_ it.

This time he really was sick. He scrabbled for the towel Cas had brought, but nothing came up but stomach acid and bile. He hadn’t eaten, he realized. Too busy fucking.

“Omegas adjust in different ways,” Castiel was telling him, and he rolled his eyes because what a god damn useless platitude. “Some take alpha mates and have pups. Some… some don’t. You don’t need to decide what you want immediately. Give yourself time to adapt. Your body chemistry has changed significantly; you’ll probably find that lots of things are different. Not just sexual desire- many omegas report that their favorite foods and colors change, as well.”

Dean tried to laugh. His throat was sore. A lot of things were sore. He tested his strength again, found his body was a little more under his control.

He was going to have a limp, he realized as he shifted onto his knees. Something inside him was bruised, protesting when he moved. He looked at Castiel.

“If I can walk under my own power, does that mean I get my pants back?”

Castiel nodded.

“Of course.”  

 

Dean dressed under his own power, even if it did take a little longer than usual. Bending was rough, the rippling cramps of the last few days had been replaced by the steady, sullen throbbing of blunt force trauma. It hurt; he’d get over it.

There was come on his boxers, reminding him that he’d already been well-fucked when he got here. He shoved them in the trash and went commando.

Castiel dutifully watched over him, making sure he didn’t hang himself with his belt or whatever bullshit they thought he was going to get up to.

There were approximately eighteen firearms in the trunk of the Impala, not to mention enough foreign poisons to kill him a hundred times over.

He did not mention this to Castiel.

He didn’t think he was going to kill himself, but what did he know? He was still _adjusting._ Best to leave his options open.

 

Sam wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Castiel introduced himself as a ‘transitionary counselor,’ whatever the fuck _that_ was, and gave them both business cards. Sam put his in his wallet. Dean shoved his in his pocket and resolved to let it go through the laundry accidentally.

He didn’t need _counseling._

What he needed was omega suppressants and a drink.

Sam wouldn’t meet his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm calling this story over now. 
> 
> I've told what I'm going to tell. Where Dean goes from here is out of my hands.   
> If you have a preference; write your own ending, I'd love to read it.


	9. Sequel

For anyone interested, there is a followup to this fic being posted here: [ http://archiveofourown.org/works/12260601/chapters/27862464 ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12260601/chapters/27862464)


End file.
